


Fade Into Colour

by Katseester



Category: The Dragon Prince (Cartoon)
Genre: Anal Fingering, Anal Sex, Cock Rings, Edgeplay, Ghost Sex, Light BDSM, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Mutual Pining, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Power Dynamics, Rimming, Touch-Starved
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-09-25
Updated: 2020-09-25
Packaged: 2021-03-08 03:21:10
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,839
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26648926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Katseester/pseuds/Katseester
Summary: Aaravos was beautiful, freckled with stars: a canvas for the swirling expanse of the cosmos, and Viren felt wretched for even daring to gaze upon such alluring elegance.Aaravos gains corporeality for one night. It goes in the direction you'd probably expect. Spoilers for season 3.
Relationships: Aaravos/Viren (The Dragon Prince)
Comments: 6
Kudos: 87





	Fade Into Colour

**Author's Note:**

> The "mildly dubious consent" tag is because Aaravos keeps doing things without asking. I promise Viren is down for all of it.

Viren was not surprised.

He couldn't be, not with his "little bug pal" whispering in his ear, directing him back to his tent, to his bedroll, to rest.

It was late. His meeting the other leaders of their combined army had run late, fraught with tension at this uneasy alliance, and he was tired from dealing with so many closed-minded people _yet again_. Sleep was starting to sound like a very good idea, but -

"What are you doing here?" he asked flatly, stopping short at the entrance to his tent, allowing the flap to fall closed behind him.

"I'm always with you," Aaravos said, a reminder that Viren did not need; the elf's familiar made sure of that. "Sit with me." He spoke it like a request, an upward lilt at the end of the sentence. Viren sat.

"What do you want?" he asked. Aaravos had moved closer to him, and Viren wasn't sure if he liked the devious expression on his face. "If you're just here to ask me more questions about human food, I don't care right now."

"I thought I'd keep you company. We are, after all, irrevocably, inexorably bound, you and I," Aaravos murmured, purring the words, sweet like honey, so very close to Viren's ear. He held out a hand, palm facing upwards, and Viren spied upon it the thin line where Aaravos had taken the knife to his skin. It all but gleamed in the darkness.

Viren knew. He felt it, understood it, yearned for it. The moment he had pulled the knife over the palm of his hand was the moment his fate had become uncontrollably and irreversibly interlaced with that of his enigmatic benefactor. He had known, then, what entering a blood pact with the elf would entail. He had known, but he had not understood, _could_ not have understood, not until he had felt Aaravos' power slipping into him like a whispered prayer.

He wasn't sure if even death would - or could - break this binding. He wasn't sure he would want it to.

So Viren didn't stop Aaravos as he reached out and took his hand, pressing their twin scars together in a mockery of intimacy neither felt. He merely marvelled at the contact.

"How can you touch me?" Viren wondered aloud, and Aaravos chuckled, quiet and low and resonant.

"The stars have aligned just so," Aaravos said, and it was such a non-explanation that Viren snorted. He supposed there was a possibility it made sense; did the other people of his kind not draw more power from their primal elements. Aaravos, picking up on his skepticism, chuckled, and the low, rumbling laugh resonated melodically through Viren's very essence. He suppressed a shiver as Aavaros' hand wandered from his, fluttering lightly up his arm and over his shoulder until it came to rest just under his jaw. "I could spend the evening giving you a detailed explanation on star charts and the many moons' waxing and waning influence over their power." And here he leaned in dangerously close; his lips ghosted over the curve of Viren's ear as he spoke. "But why would I do that when I could find a much more enjoyable way to spend my limited corporeal time?"

Viren wasn't a fool, nor was he ignorant. He knew what Aaravos wanted, knew it from the day he'd sliced open his palm and heeded his first command. _Speak_ . _Speak so I may hear you._

Viren was, as ever, powerless to resist.

"I'll hear the explanation later," he ceded, and it was all the permission Aaravos needed; he leaned back on his heels and unclasped his robe, allowing the shimmering garment to fall from his shoulders, revealing a glittering expanse of skin and starlight. He could have just vanished the clothing - Viren had seen him do it before - but he supposed that after centuries of isolation he would want to make a show of undressing himself as well.

It was, all told, an excellent show. Aaravos knew it, showed it in the roll of his shoulders as he shrugged his robe down over his arms. The movement revealed two dusky nipples, perked with arousal, and Viren was struck by the thought of tasting them, the wonder of how much this spectre of light and magic would impart.

And then he was removing his trousers, and Viren couldn't look away.

He hadn't expected the splash of stars to simply disappear beneath the waistline, and indeed they didn't. The glittering markings were dusted along the lengths of his thighs and calves, wrapped tantalizingly around his hips and arse and cock. He was a vision of decadence, bare and gleaming in the lamplight, and Viren had never wanted anything more in his life than this. He had the belated thought that he should undress himself as well - as though he were anything to look at next to Aaravos - but Aaravos had taken it upon himself to unbutton his tunic and slide it from his shoulders before pulling his undershirt up and over his head, baring all in one swift moment that left Viren feeling quite off-balance.

"Wait," Viren said, even though he would rather not. He flung out an arm towards his bag, intent on pulling out the small vial of oil he had been intending to use at some point or another, and growled in frustration as Aaravos stilled his grasping fingers, a mischievous grin pulling at his lips.

"There's no need," he murmured, bringing Viren's hand around to his backside. He pressed Viren's fingers up against his entrance; it was slick with wetness. "I've already prepared myself."

Viren's mouth went dry at the thought of it: Aaravos, alone in his study, splayed wantonly over that high-backed chair, perhaps with a leg propped up on his desk. Aaravos, fucking himself with his fingers in perfect view of the mirror, head thrown back in ecstasy and lips parted in a sensual gasp. If only Viren had had the chance to stumble upon him in such a state.

His hips twitched upwards involuntarily and Aaravos released a delighted noise as Viren's clothed prick bumped headily into his own bare arousal. Then Aaravos shifted closer and they were kissing again; the taste of the elf was intoxicating, something heavy and and easy and dripping with want, and Viren would lose himself forever in that taste were he allowed to.

He let a finger slip easily into Aaravos, marvelled at how _real_ he felt. Inside him was hot and tight, wet enough that Viren could effortlessly slide in another digit. Aaravos shuddered at the sensation, breath catching against Viren's mouth, and Viren took the opportunity to pull him closer, explore deeper within him until, with a truncated cry, the elf suddenly pulled away from him, chest heaving.

"You're sensitive," Viren observed, twitching his fingers in just the right way to make the elf writhe, and he wholly deserved the way Aaravos' nails raked sharply down his back, would in fact do it again and again if it meant Aaravos would never stop making such appealing noises.

"It has been _centuries_ ," Aaravos hissed, and Viren could see how widely his pupils had blown, how bruised and swollen his lips were. It made him want more. It made him want every single thing Aaravos could give him, made him crave it like a man dying of thirst craved water.

Gently, much more gentle than Viren deserved or wanted, Aaravos pushed him down until his back met his bedroll, then eased his arms over his head, trapping his wrists beneath his hands.

"Just watch," he whispered, and when he pulled back Viren was alarmed that he could not move his arms from where Aaravos had pinned them to the floor.

"What is this?" he demanded, struggling against the restraints; a quick glance up revealed they were made of shimmering light and magic; they wouldn't be removed easily. "What are you doing?"

"If you want it badly enough, you can break the incantation," Aaravos murmured. He began to take advantage of Viren's prone form, wandering hands exploring and stroking and teasing, but it wasn't enough, wasn't nearly enough to sate him. "You don't want to, though, do you?"

The infuriating thing was, he was right. As much as he wanted to wrest control back, he wanted this more. To relinquish his grasp on authority and allow Aaravos to do with him as he pleased - the notion sent a thrill of exhilaration through him, heady as the mulled wine he was partial to back in Katolis.

Aaravos' mouth had joined his hands in their exploration of him, lips and tongue and teeth prodding and biting and licking and sucking at him until his throat and chest were mess of pleasurable bruises. And then - gods - then he drew a nipple into his mouth and it was exquisite, incredible, and he didn't know how he had survived so many years without this, without Aaravos -

With a final flick of his tongue Aaravos released his nipple. Viren bit back a whimpering protest at the loss, ignored the rumbling chuckle against his sternum as Aaravos slowly and methodically mapped out every inch of him with that damnable mouth. He teased at the inside of Viren's thigh, nipping and licking and kissing the sensitive skin just at the crux of his groin, lapping up the precome that had trickled from his weeping cock. At this he made a curious sound, something akin to delight, before flicking and inquisitive tongue over the head of his prick. Viren's hips twitched, an aborted bucking movement hindered by the hand Aaravos used to hold him down, and he could not contain the gravelly moan that escaped him as Aaravos licked down the length of him, following the desperate trail of Viren's desire until his mouth left Viren's prick completely.

Then he was spreading Viren's legs, fingers pressing insistently at his thighs and tilting his hips just so, the touch electric on such tender skin. Viren had an idea of what he meant to do and had no time to voice concern before Aaravos was licking a wide strip over his entrance, and any protest Viren might have had died on his lips.

He didn't know what Aaravos was doing - well, that was a lie. Viren knew exactly what he was doing, but the manner in which Aaravos was kissing and teasing him was so unlike anything he had ever felt before that he was sure this must be some form of art in Xadia, one in which Aaravos was intimately acquainted. He wielded his tongue as a master painter would his brush, stroking and blotting, and when he breached the tight ring of muscles to begin his investigation inside, creating a slight suction with his lips, Viren released a growl so guttural he wasn't sure it was human.

Too soon for Viren's liking, Aaravos pulled back, but he allowed his fingers to rub idly at Viren's stimulated entrance as he kissed his way back to his cock, placing an especially toothy one just at the base.

"Delicious," Aaravos purred, giving Viren's cock one last swipe with his tongue before settling himself astride the man's thighs. "Do you know, I never grow tired of the taste of mankind. You're all so different, so unique. Your aroma, your flavour in particular - " He swiped a thumb over the tip of Viren's prick and brought the digit to his mouth, expression taking on a blissful quality at the taste of Viren's precome. "Magnificent."

"I've never liked the taste," Viren admitted, and Aaravos quirked an amused eyebrow at him for it.

"No, I don't imagine you would," he said. "You'd rather have something a little more delicate, wouldn't you?"

Viren's cock twitched painfully, aching for contact, aching for Aaravos to lower his head and swallow the entire thing, or use his hand to bring him off, or -

"What the hell - " he exploded, furious to see a gleaming - _something_ \- encircling him.

"There's no need for alarm. Just watch," Aaravos repeated, taking Viren's prick in his hand at the base, and then he slowly, agonizingly, lowered himself onto it. He released a long, shuddering breath, tipping his head back to reveal the smooth galaxy of his star-touched throat. He looked divine, as though nothing would ever please him more than he was in this moment, sitting astride Viren with the man's prick buried deep within.

His fury was replaced by an inescapable _need_ \- to have Aaravos closer, tighter, warmer, and he knew that _this_ was why the damned elf had placed that magical - thing - around him. Viren ached to touch, to reach out and run his fingers along that lithe body, to explore and understand just what it was that this beautiful and strange creature saw as so desirable in him, to permit him such pleasure.

Aaravos was beautiful, freckled with stars: a canvas for the swirling expanse of the cosmos, and Viren felt wretched for even daring to gaze upon such alluring elegance.

He could see himself, buried deep in Aaravos, could feel the heat and pressure around his erection, standing still at attention within this man - this elf - who was peering down at him with a calculating eye through the flush high on his cheeks.

"Am I to your satisfaction?" Viren ground out through gritted teeth, and Aaravos, the cheeky bastard, hummed in contemplation, rolling a nipple between thumb and forefinger. Viren hissed an expletive.

"I do believe you are," Aaravos said, and shifted just so, enough that Viren could feel and - lords - _see_ it, his eyes glued on the slight movement of his prick inside of the elf. He wouldn't last long, not like this.

It was torture, waiting for Aaravos to begin moving, but the elf seemed intent on taking his time, grinding down gently every time Viren made a noise of impatience or need. After what seemed like an age he lifted himself so far off Viren's prick he could see the jutting ridge of the head pull obscenely out of Aaravos before the elf pressed himself back down, voice trembling in a breathy moan.

Viren thought he would come, could feel the waves of pleasure wracking his body at the sight and touch and sound of it all, _ached_ for the release he so desperately wanted.

"Not yet," Aaravos whispered, and Viren was helpless but to obey.

Aaravos began to move in earnest after that, picking up a steady rhythm punctuated by his soft, breathy sighs. He placed his hands in such a position that every movement brought his thumbs brushing against Viren's nipples, tiny sparks of pleasure to accentuate the rush of feeling from his excrutiatingly sensitive cock. It was too much - it was exactly what he wanted - and every time Viren thought he might be close to climax Aaravos ground to a halt, breathing hot and heavy in Viren's ear, pressed as close to the man as he could be while murmuring sweet words that Viren knew to be lies. Then he would straighten back up and continue, and it was all Viren could do to hold on, to simply watch.

He knew Aaravos was close in the way his hips had begun to jerk, the way his breath had begun to come in short, ragged spurts, moans uninhibited and climbing in volume until he flung out an arm, reaching for Viren, eyes clouded over with an unimagineable need.

It was easy, then, to break the enchantments around his wrists and cock, easy to reach back to Aaravos and accept his embrace as he convulsed and all but howled with wanton abandon; come spilled from his cock, untouched throughout, and it was _that_ thought that finally set Viren over the edge.

Aaravos kissed him as he came, swallowed his weeping cries, and his fingers were such a delicate touch on his cheeks, his forehead, his throat, that Viren was almost fooled.

They lay together for a time afterwards. There was something indecent about the idea of Viren's softening cock remaining inside Aaravos, but the elf didn't make an attempt to remove it, instead resting with his nose buried behind Viren's jaw, and Viren found he was in no great rush to, either. He was beginning to feel the pangs of soreness in his shoulders; tomorrow's ride would not be a pleasant one.

How typical that he could touch Aaravos as he wished, now that he was languid and sated. He did so, running his hands along the elf's back, counting each knob of his spine as it passed under his fingers.

"We caused quite a ruckus," he mused, and then felt himself flush at the realization. He hadn't set up his tent much further away from his army than a stone's throw.

"Oh, they can't hear me," Aaravos said with a great air of nonchalance, pulling back just enough so that Viren could see the impish glitter in his eyes. "You, on the other hand...how far was it that you said your children were sleeping?"

Viren groaned.

**Author's Note:**

> And then they banged like 5 more times before the sun came up.


End file.
